


Numb.

by Bowtiesarecool123



Series: Angst one shots [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtiesarecool123/pseuds/Bowtiesarecool123
Summary: That was why he started drinking in the first place, to be numb. To forget. The thing is, you have to keep drinking, or else the sadness comes back, the memories come back. A bottle after another. Then another, and another- you get the idea. If you stop drinking, you start to remember.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: Angst one shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146173
Kudos: 4





	Numb.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback and Comments appreciated. Loosely based off George Blagden's cover of "I will follow you into the dark".
> 
> Link to song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w30Irt3m_jU

Numb. That was what he felt. Or rather what he didn’t feel. Because that’s all he felt, numb, nothing else, he wasn’t sad, he wasn’t angry. Nothing. Just numb.

That’s the magic of alcohol, he supposed, very useful really, especially for suppressing feelings. He didn’t want to feel sad. No, not sad...Sad was too messy. 

Too many fluctuations, emotions jumping here and there. Sometimes he didn’t even know what he was feeling when he was sad. It’s really just a roulette of undesirable feelings. 

He hated being sad. Too much crying, too much regret, sad was an awful feeling. Much too tiring, it often leads to anger. Grantaire hated anger. Numb was much better.

That was why he started drinking in the first place, to be numb. To forget. The thing is, you have to keep drinking, or else the sadness comes back, the memories come back. A bottle after another. Then another, and another- you get the idea. If you stop drinking, you start to remember. 

And you have to drink quickly, if you wait too long, you can never make the memories go away. They stay in your head forever. He made that mistake early on.

“ _...Inordinately homely-_ ”

“ _...Always a disappointment._ ”

Back then, Grantaire was young. He didn’t discover drinking yet. Now he knew better. Whenever the words come back, drink.

“ _R, you’re good for nothing._ ”

He remembered vividly Enjolras's scoff.

Drink.

“ _You only come here to dampen our spirits._ ”

That look of disgust.

Drink.

“ _Your presence is unwelcome._ ”

He chokes back a sob. No, no crying. Drink, forget, drink, numb.

He could deal with it should it be from his father, he didn’t care. He never cared for that man as that man never cared for him. Even if it was coming from his mother, he wouldn’t care, not as much as this at least.

No, this, _this_ , this was from Enjolras. How cruel fate must be for him to only love the man who could never love him back. 

Drink, Grantaire, Drink! No feelings, no thinking, just drink. He was going to run out of wine soon, sleep then. Sleep and forget. Taking one last swig of the vile liquid, he watched the bottle shatter on the hard, cold, concrete.

_Where am I?_

Oh yes, an alleyway at night in the slums of Paris. He knew it wasn’t safe. Thieves run amok searching for easy money like pickpocketing snoring drunkards. Which really was a perfect description for what Grantaire was right now. 

But does he really give a damn? Obviously not, and he spent all his money on cheap wine already. Such an unfortunate revelation for the burglars. Or... perhaps someone would slit his throat to sell his body to doctors for research. He’d heard a lot of terrible and gory stories of what happened to drunkards. But fuck that, he didn’t fucking care.

Grantaire could feel sleep and the numbness creeping in. In the morning, well, _if_ he woke in the morning, but at this point he didn’t really care whether he did or did not. But should he wake, he would blissfully forget everything. So Grantaire waited for the darkness to come.

  
  



End file.
